Page 106 of Ruthless Savior
Over breakfast the next morning, I can see how tense Ronan is. It’s evident in the set of his shoulders, the line of his clenched jaw. He said he spoke with his father, and whatever was said has shaken him. I can guess why.
I want to push him for details, to know what threats we’re facing. But there's another part of me—a part that's been growing stronger these past two days—that just wants to preserve this fragile peace between us for a little longer.
I look at him across the table, and I know I’m falling for him. I have been for longer than I’ve wanted to admit, I think—as far back as when I offered him a night with me in exchange for a way out. I wanted him back then, and even if then it was more lust than emotion, there was still something there.
He’s my rescuer. My protector. A man who, despite all his violence, is gentle and kind with me. He’s provided everything I could need; everything that those I love could need.
He’s also a powerful, violent man. But I think I’m falling for that side of him, too.
I bite my lip, watching him from under my lashes as I eat. I didn’t want to admit it to myself for a long time—but I’mattracted to that part of him, too. In the last months, I’ve often felt so helpless. So unable to do anything as I watched my mom’s life fall apart. I’ve been so desperate that I went to a dangerous man for money. I’ve been held captive.
Ronan makes me feel safe. His violence, the fear and respect he commands, is part of what keeps me safe, even when other dangerous men want to hurt me. And in a world where, even without the involvement of loan sharks and mafia, there are always men who want to hurt women, Ilikeknowing that there’s a man who would kill for me before he’d let anyone touch me.
His world is dangerous. It’s violent and it’s illegal and it’s full of things that I’ve never imagined allowing myself to be adjacent to… but I’m not so sure any longer that I want to leave it.
Not if it means leaving Ronan at the end of this.
I’m falling for all of him, not just the parts that are safe to love. But at the same time, the rational part of me, the part that’s good at quantifying things, calculating numbers, and running statistics, knows that by giving in to that love, I’m setting myself up for a life that I’m not entirely sure I’m prepared to live.
I would also be bringing a child into that life. Making a decision for someone not even born yet to surround them with danger and expectations that they never agreed to. Can I do that?
Can I bring a child into a world that I’ve seen firsthand is so violent that Ronan’s first wife and child didn’t survive it?
"You're quiet this morning," Ronan observes, setting down his coffee cup. It’s just the two of us right now—my mom already finished breakfast and said she was going to go take a rest in the sunroom that overlooks the gardens. She’s been more tired the last few days, and I don’t know if she’s getting worse or if she’s making excuses to let Ronan and me have time alone together. I hope it’s the latter, but I’m worried.
"Just thinking." I toy with a piece of fruit on the end of my fork. My appetite has come back a little, and the morning sickness has eased a bit. But I’m still careful with what I eat—I never know when my stomach is going to revolt.
"About?"
About how I can't ask you to give up everything you are for me. About how I can't imagine you as anyone else. About how I'm terrified of bringing our child into your world, but even more terrified of taking them away from their father.The thoughts crash through my head, and I wince, rubbing my fingers on either side of the bridge of my nose.
"The baby," I say instead, which isn't entirely a lie.
Something shifts in his expression. "What about the baby?"
"I want you to know that I'll never keep them from you." The words come out in a rush, things that I’ve been thinking all morning as I’ve tried to imagine staying, and tried to imagine what it will be like if I go at the end of all of this. "Whatever happens between us, whatever we decide about… this arrangement… I won't disappear with your child."
He goes very still. "What are you saying? Are you saying that you want to keep the baby?"
"I'm saying that I know this is complicated. I know your life is dangerous, and I know I don't fully understand what that means yet. But this baby deserves to know their father, and you deserve to be part of their life." I pause, my voice shakier than I want it to be. “And… yes. I think so. I can’t… I can’t imaginenotkeeping it. Especially after you already lost…” My voice cracks, and I look down at my plate. “I didn’t picture children in my life, especially not so soon. But now that there’s the possibility ofyourchild, I can’t imagine how I’d feel knowing I could have met them and choosing not to.”
The admission is so vulnerable, so close to telling him how I feel about him, that I can’t look him in the eye. I stare down atthe remains of my breakfast, willing him to say something that will make this easier, better.
"Leila..." He pauses, as if he’s not sure how to finish whatever is on his mind.
"I'm not asking for promises," I continue before he can finish whatever he was going to say. "I'm not asking you to change your life or abandon your responsibilities. I understand what you said to me the other day. And you’re right—if you were a different kind of man, I probably wouldn’t be here right now. You wouldn’t be the man that I… I'm just telling you that you don't have to worry about me running away and taking your child with me." I swallow hard, still unable to look at him.
The silence stretches between us, heavy with everything we're not saying. Finally, Ronan reaches across the table and takes my hand. "Thank you," he says quietly. "That means more than you know."
I squeeze his fingers, memorizing the warmth of his touch. "I know you'll be a good father. I've seen how you protect the people you care about. We'll figure out how to keep them safe.”
“It will mean security,” he says after a moment. “Even if we’re not together, I’ll always need to have men watching you. Keeping you safe. Making sure that no one can touch you. It would be easier to keep you both safe if we were together, in the same house, but?—”
He breaks off, and I look at him, wishing he would just say how he feels. That he would open up to me completely, instead of fighting to be better than even I need him to be. “But, what?” I ask finally.
“I’m not going to ask you to stay just for that. To not live your life, to be married to someone you didn’t really choose, just because you need the safety I can provide. This was never meant to be a permanent marriage of convenience, and you should getto live the life you want to live. I’ll… I’ll figure out a way to make sure you can do that, and not have to live in fear. Either of you.”’
I swallow hard. “Ronan, what if?—”
